


A Moment of Vulnerability

by princexero



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princexero/pseuds/princexero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After receiving a letter from his father, Dorian has a moment of vulnerability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment of Vulnerability

“Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you?”

The sudden question has Krem at a loss for words. All he'd asked was, “How's it going, Ri?”and he can honestly say he wasn't expecting anything like that as a reply.

“I mean, it isn't like I've contributed very much,” Dorian continues, undeterred. “Also, thinking about it, I've had more negative comments about my being around than good ones—aside from any men who've bedded me, of course. Although, come to think of it, they never want me to stick around either.”

His voice is oddly conversational as he says all this, and Krem is having a hard time keeping up, thinking of something to say in return.

“Dorian—” 

Dorian looks up at him as if he only just notices his presence. 

“I apologize,” he says calmly, head bowing. “I do think I need some time alone right now.”

Krem blinks once, twice, before stepping forward hesitantly.

“We can talk about this if you need, Dorian.”

“Please, I just… I really need some space right now.”

He's retreated to the other end of his room, looking out the window there with his back to Krem, and Krem knows that's as much as the other will say to him without getting angry, so he leaves.

__

 

“Lieutenant Aclassi!” 

Krem swivels to see who's calling him, wooden sword hanging at his side. A young elven girl—he's seen her once or twice at the tavern, he thinks, but doesn't remember her name—makes her way towards him hastily.

“What is it?”

She looks up at him, an inch or two shorter than Krem, and it's clear she's frazzled. 

“It's Dorian.”

Krem almost runs without gathering all the information but thinks better of himself and stands still.

“What happened?” His patience is wearing thin the longer he stands still.

The crease between the girl's eyebrows deepens as she continues. “I'm not entirely sure. I was walking past his quarters when I heard a noise—it sounded curious, not necessarily something worth worrying about—and knocked on his door just to make sure. His voice was strained, but all he said was to get you.”

Hearing all the information the girl has to offer, Krem drops the sword entirely and makes to move past her, offering a quick 'thanks' as he disappears up the worn stone steps.

__

 

“Dorian,” he says, chest heaving only slightly due to running through Skyhold, standing outside the man's door.

The door swings open quickly and the look on Dorian's face tells him that he should've run faster. He looks broken, for lack of a better term. He looks like all his energy has been drained, as if in the few hours Krem has been away he found a demon and only just managed to flee, not without it taking everything but his life from him.

“Come here, Ri.”

He steps into the room and opens his arms, feeling the slightest bit of relief when Dorian doesn't hesitate, stepping into his space and allowing him to hold him close; allowing him to attempt to force some of his own energy into the other.

“Everything my father has said about me,” Dorian says, leaving the sentence unfinished, hanging in the air between them (although there isn't any room for air between them with how close they're pressed against each other.) “He was right, about everything. I'm nothing but a failure, an embarrassment to the family name.”

“You know that isn't true,” Krem whispers against the top of Dorian's head. “What's making you think about this so suddenly?”

“My father sent a letter.”

Krem takes his time responding, taking a deep breath and letting it out before he responds. The last thing Dorian needs is Krem getting angry and feeling like its directed at him.

“Where is it?”

“Gone.”

Momentarily, Krem is relieved. Then the moment passes and he's worried again.

“Where did it go?”

Dorian hesitates this time and Krem can feel his body tense.

“I burned it.” A pause. “Using magic.” Another pause. “I was angry.”

“I'm sure you had every right to be,” Krem says, smoothing Dorian's hair. He tells himself to remember to scold Dorian later about using magic and potentially doing more damage, primarily to himself.

They stand there a while longer, not saying a word to disturb the silence that's fallen, until Krem can feel the tense, negative energy seep out of the older man's body. Only then does he try to pull back, not too far, so Dorian doesn't think he's leaving. He only moves enough to press a gentle kiss to his forehead and motion towards the bed.

Once they're on the bed, sitting up against the headboard and leaning against each other heavily, Dorian sighs deeply.

“Sorry for all of this,” he says, voice sounding much more like himself than the broken version Krem heard earlier. The version he never wants to hear again. “You don't have to stay, you know. I promise I won't attempt to set anything else on fire.”

Krem laughs, although there isn't much humour in it, and pulls Dorian impossibly closer.

“You don't need to apologize,” he reassures him. “And I'm not staying because I feel like I have to. You should know me well enough to know I wouldn't ever do something I don't have to if I don't want to.”

He can feel Dorian's short, breathy laugh in reply.

“I care about you a lot, Ri,” Krem continues. “You aren't useless, and you aren't a disappointment to anyone. You're a huge help to the inquisition, not to mention you're pretty to look at.”

Dorian laughs again, this time with more humour in it. 

“Well, I can't argue with that.”

Krem smiles, briefly running his fingers through the other's hair.

“I'm serious, though. About you not being useless. If there's a soul here who doesn't want you around they're smart enough to keep quiet about it—you know as well as I do how many people they'd have to answer to. As it is I'm fairly sure the only thing stopping both the inquisitor and I from marching right over to your father's house and dealing with him ourselves is the fact that you wouldn't want that.”

“You're right,” Dorian says surely. “I'd want to deal with him myself.”

The fire in his voice, the sound of him being utterly sure of himself, floods Krem with a relief that he wasn't aware he was waiting for. He's suddenly sure Dorian is fine—will be fine, and has a good feeling that he'll say something to his father that will ensure no further letters.

“You're a strong man, Dorian.”

He can feel as well as hear when Dorian smiles, hearing the accompanying laugh next to his ear. “Coming from you? You can't be saying things like that, my ego will grow far too large.”

Krem just rolls his eyes and moves to lie on top of the other, kissing the grin clean off his face; continuing to kiss him long after its been replaced with a much more needy look. He wants to make it clear to Dorian that he's serious, about everything he's said, but he can do that any time. In the moment its clear that Dorian wants—honestly, needs—something different, and Krem isn't going to deny him that.


End file.
